


The Clever Turbofox and Other Falsehood Truths

by TrinesRUs



Category: Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: Alien Culture, Culture Sharing, Discussions of abuse, Discussions of gender, Discussions of sexism, Drabble, Fairy Tales, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 15:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2155470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrinesRUs/pseuds/TrinesRUs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cody shares fairytales with the Rescue Bots, and then everyone else wants a turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Clever Turbofox and Other Falsehood Truths

**Author's Note:**

> I really only meant to associate Hayley with fairytales, but then I got ideas for stories like this and others. Whoops.
> 
> Also, Heatwave's tale is inspired by a fic I haven't written yet (at time of posting), so expect that one to get mentioned again in one of my fics. **Edit:** Now mentioned in For All That Has Happened.

            “But the man forgot his father’s warning and washed his hands in the pond,” reads Cody aloud. “Immediately, a stronger hand lashed out of the water and dragged him down below the surface of the water.”

            He watches the Autobots’ reactions over the top of his book. Blades gasps and clutches Heatwave’s shoulder while the red mech tries to look a lot less interested than he actually is. Chase’s optics are slightly wider than they would be normally, but he looks outwardly unfazed otherwise. Boulder leans forward in anticipation.

            “His wife worried when he didn’t come home for days, but her husband often warned her of the pond near his childhood home and the nixie that lived within it. She went as quickly as she could to the site and called her husband’s name. She called and called, but still received no answer. After trying all night, she collapsed on the shore and cried herself to sleep.

            “She dreamt she met an old woman who gave her advice to get her husband back. It would take three full moons. At each one, she would have to return to the pond and complete a task: first comb her hair, then play a song on a flute, then spin thread.

            “The wife did each of these on those nights of the full moon. Each time, she would place her tool on the shore when she was done, and a wave would come and take it away. Then, she would get a glimpse of her husband. The first night, she saw just his head. The second night, she saw his head and shoulders. The third night, he was completely free.

            “But nearly as soon as she pulled him ashore and started heading home, a great wave arose and rolled in their direction. The wife pled for their safety, and the old woman turned the woman and husband into a toad and a frog. When the wave struck, they survived, but they were separated in the flood.”

            “Wait a second,” Blades interrupts. “This sounds a little familiar…”

            Boulder seems to consider it carefully. “Yeah…Sounds kind of like the Tale of Skysong and Laveer. The beginning is obviously different, but the stories are similar.”

           Cody’s interest is piqued. He sets aside the book for a moment and asks, “What’s the Tale of Skysong and Laveer?”

            “It is one of the oldest and longest-preserved of Cybertron’s closest equivalents to fairytales,” Chase provides, “although we called them something closer to ‘falsehood truths’ or ‘dancing truths.’ The Tale of Skysong and Laveer, in particular, is one of several of these ‘falsehood truths’ produced to explain how transformation came to be in the vorns before Doctors Cogwheel and Ratchet proved that it was a natural-born capability.”

            “Noble. Can I hear it?”

            Blades makes puppy eyes at Boulder, but it’s hardly necessary. The green mech seems happy to share. “I’ll translate as best I can.”

~----------~

_In the times before transformation was possible, there lived two lovers, Ballad and Contender, whom wished to see the whole of Cybertron. The planet was little-explored in those wild, unruly times, and they wanted to be the first._

_For many cycles of the nearest star, they walked and climbed the surface of the planet with little incident, though they soon grew tired and low on fuel. To their great relief, an oil-house appeared on the horizon, and they gained a temporary burst of energy to rush to the facility. The energon they received was sweetened greatly by their exhaustion, and they thanked the owner graciously._

_“I have one last kindness to offer you, traveling strangers,” said the owner. “I besiege you not to go north. The weather is most treacherous there. I ask that you stay the night and travel east in the morning.” As their host had treated them very well so far, they had no reason to doubt their advice, and they agreed._

_However, before the night-cycle was even through, adventure was calling them with its enticing tones. Ballad warbled a lullaby to drown out the call. The wind roared louder, and Ballad increased the volume of her singing until doing so any longer would only disturb their host. Then Contender rose from their shared berth, closed the window, and used her bulkier body to muffle the sound of outside. But the very planet reverberated for them to continue on with their exploration._

_At last, the two of them could resist no longer. They sneaked out of the oil-house and at once felt more at ease. Still, guilt weighed in their tanks, and they agreed to maintain true to their promise to travel east, if only they could remember which direction was east._

_The very ground seemed to be asking them to run in a certain direction, and they were so very lost on their own, they could only nod and run in the direction the planet led them. Unfortunately, the treacherous ground was leading them exactly where the oil-house owner advised them not to turn. With each step they took, they invited the clouds above to pour down over them._

~----------~

            Boulder’s gentle baritone is about perfect for story-telling. Its softness combined with its steady confidence has not only Cody drawn in, but the ‘Bots who have already heard this tale as well. None of them even notice when the lift doors hiss open.

~----------~

            _Ballad and Contender ran for many miles before they realized the sky overhead was awash in red, a sure sign of an acid storm. They looked in every direction for shelter from the corrosive rain, but the ground around was almost entirely flat. There were no caves for them. Despairing, Ballad sank to her knees and prayed to Primus for salvation._

_At once, a great wave arose. It swept over the lovers and dragged them out to sea. The sea was of neither water nor acid, though it still pricked their sensitive plating. They could only try to be thankful it was not the burn of rain. It tossed and turned them within its depths and pulled them in separate directions._

_Contender awoke and instantly sensed something wrong. She looked around and around, but could not find her lover. She cast her gaze out over the wide sea, but she could see no one for miles on end._

_But she was undeterred, and pled for Primus to give her some way to traverse the great sea and search for her beloved. Primus answered her and granted Contender the ability to take the form of a boat whenever she had need of it. Her armor grew thicker and sprouted the kibble that would form her hull. She wasted no time in putting this gift to use and set sail in search of her love._

_Ballad similarly woke up in great distress when she did not find her love beside her or anywhere near. The sea’s prickle had been much harder on her plating and protoform than on her beloved’s, however, so when she set her optics out to sea, she did not wish to have to touch it._

_She begged Primus for a way to soar over the sea, cut through the air, and be reunited with her lover. He heard her prayer and granted her a jet form. Her armor, too, thickened, but to a much more minute degree than Contender’s. Wings sprouted from her back, and thrusters grew from her feet. She thanked Primus and took off into the air._

_Contender sailed and Ballad flew for many long hours. But when they were very near to each other, they could not recognize one another. Contender saw a metal figure stark against the slowly-clearing sky and wondered what creature could have such a silhouette. Ballad saw a metal form floating on the sea and wondered what beast could stand the stinging liquid._

_So they passed each other, and doubt began to fill their sparks. Perhaps their lovers had perished in the storm, and their search was all for naught. Mourning in the imagined death of her lover, Ballad began to sing a lament, starting very softly and gradually growing in both volume and emotion. At the loudest, saddest note, the voice at last reached Contender, and she recognized the tones as her beloved’s._

_She turned around as quickly as her form and the waves allowed and sped after the jet, fighting the wind all the way. “Ballad!” she cried. “Ballad, my love! It is I! Meet me at the shore; we have much to discuss!”_

_Ballad recognized Contender’s voice, but was wary of the form it came from. She resolved that if it were a trap, she had only to transform and she could escape. Thus, she agreed to land at the nearest shore._

_Her fear proved unfounded. The moment the two were at the shore together, they could sense each other’s spark resonance and EM field, and though their outer forms were altered, there could be no doubt of who they were inside. They embraced one another and clicked in joy._

_They decided their new alternate modes could aid their travels greatly, making it faster and easier. As they set out to continue their exploration of the unknown planet, it was agreed that they would take new names to commemorate their transformation and teach their gifts to any of their fellows they met in their journey. Thus, Ballad became Skysong; Contender became Laveer, and the gift of transformation spread all across the planet._

_The End._

~----------~

            “Wow,” Graham says, startling the others in the room. “That was a beautiful tale. I didn’t know you guys have fairytales.”

            “Technically speaking, we do not,” corrects Chase. “We have ‘falsehood truths’ which are a close equivalent.”

            “Hey Graham! We didn’t hear you come in,” says Cody.

            “I was just coming down to check on you guys, but I heard the story and didn’t want to interrupt. Would you guys mind if I join you?” The answer all around is in favor of him staying, so Cody makes a little space for him, and he sits down. “If you don’t mind too much, I’d like to share one of my favorites. It’s called ‘The Golden Bird.’”

            The engineer begins to tell them a tale of three brothers and their attempts to catch a golden bird that was stealing fruit from the king, and how only one would listen to the advice of a talking fox (though even _that_ brother doesn’t seem very good at following directions). When the story is finished, the Rescue Bots look at each other in wonder.

            “That one, too, was highly similar to a falsehood truth from our planet,” Chase remarks. “More similar than the last, in fact. There are some clear differences, but they are ultimately the same in progression and most of the content.”

            “So much the same that the ways it wasn’t like the Clever Turbofox really threw me off,” says Blades. “Why was a member of the royalty included in the three prizes taken from the other castles? Why was the fox her brother instead of the protagonist’s future bondmate? And the brothers trying to kill him? Not cool.”

            “I forget sometimes that you guys but don’t actually have gender or the same awful attitudes that have surrounded it in our planet’s history,” says Graham. He rubs the back of his head and explains, “The princess is the one part of the story that bothers me, but at the time when this tale was created, women were considered the property of men.”

            The news disgusts the Cybertronians. They talk over each other in their protests of the attitude and how humans should be ashamed of treating other sentient beings that way, and there’s a chorus of, “Why would anyone think that?”

            “Humans don’t have the best history of treating anyone who’s different very well,” confesses Graham. “It’s a sad but true part of our planet and culture.”

            Heatwave huffs grumpily, but he also has to admit, “Well, it’s not like _our_ planet’s history is spotless, either.”

            “We _do_ have a reputation around the universe for our wars,” says Boulder, “and the caste system was still in effect when we went in to stasis.”

            “But I still have to wonder something about why Earth’s version of the tale interests you,” the red mech continues. “The part about the two brothers trying to kill the third.”

            “Pfft, obviously, it’s because Graham always wanted to be an only child,” Kade says dryly as he walks up to the group. “So, this is what you’ve all been up to. Well, if it’s a story you’re looking for, I think I might—”

            “Not so fast,” Dani interrupts, having entered only shortly after he had. “You guys are sharing fairytales? I want a turn, and none of us will get one for _hours_ if we let Kade go next.”

            He pouts at her, but his expression soon morphs into a sneer. “Fine, then. I’m sure you’ll love to tell them your very favorite…‘ _Griselda_.’”

            Had anyone dropped a pin, they could have heard it slice through the air and chime on the floor. Dani tightens her fists at her sides. The younger two brothers dive for cover. The Rescue Bots have no idea what Kade said or what’s so bad about it, but they can tell it’s bad. The silence is finally broken by the woman hissing, “You didn’t.”

            “Oh, I think I did, baby sister.”

            She looked about ready to leap on her eldest brother before Blades chances whispering, “What’s ‘Griselda’?”

            Dani rounds on him, but she seems almost dangerously calm. “‘Griselda’ is a tale about a prince who distrusts women so much that he refuses to marry unless he can find a woman who is perfectly simple in taste and completely obedient to him, and then when he finds and marries a shepherdess who fits his requirements exactly and is stunningly beautiful to boot, he still distrusts her and abuses her until he’s absolutely certain that she’s as obedient as she appears. _And the message is that all women should try to be as patient and subservient as the shepherdess_.”

            Even Kade pales when Dani then stoops to pick up the book Cody discarded. They think, for certain, she’s about to hit the redhead with it. It’s to their surprise and relief, then, when she opens it and starts flipping pages. “I’ll read you ‘Griselda,’ alright.”

            She then proceeded to read them the most biting, sarcastic, over-the-top rendition of a fairytale any of them had ever heard. Words that would have been insulting and offensive to reader and audience both are transformed into pure comedy through her tone. Before she’s even halfway through, she has them all falling over with laughter, and the eldest of her brothers is even crying from snickering so hard. Satisfied with their reaction, Dani closes the book and sets it back down.

            Chase is, unsurprisingly, the first to recover. He considers the pilot for a moment. Then, he says, “I believe I know of a close Cybertronian equivalent with a far more favorable ending that you may enjoy. Just before the caste system was instituted on Cybertron, there were some who wished to remove this tale from registries as it was considered exceedingly subversive.” The others settle down before long and look cautiously between Dani and Chase.

            When the woman gives him permission, the police-mech begins.

~----------~

            _There once was a mech of noble birth, designated Split Speed, renowned for his benevolence and social grace. Split Speed never kept any other mech waiting and was very timely in business matters. His paint and wax were always well-maintained, but he never bothered with excessive ornaments or fancy modifications, as he saw them as a gaudy impediment. His greatest joy was found in the exercise of his high-efficiency alt.-mode._

_His simple existence carried the expectation that he would take a bondmate or_ _conjunx endura_ _, as nobles do to form stronger business relations. This one aspect of his role was to his distaste, as the mech had a secret domineering attitude that was only considered appropriate with those of lower rank or station. He disliked the resistance he was sure to receive from his fellows were he to join with any of them._

_So he decided he would surely find a merchant or some other mech whom he could conceivably pass as having potential for a beneficial union, but whom he could still manipulate and order without harming his own standing in his community._

_Split Speed at once told his mentor that he would be traveling around Cybertron until he could find the perfect mate. He packed his subspace lightly, politely refused company from his friends at court, and set off on his search._

_He would travel any distance, so long as he thought he stood a reasonable chance of finding his mate there. At once, he ruled out Vos, as he had heard much of Seeker pride and knew he could never find what he wanted there. Praxus and its reputation appealed to his sense of efficiency, but there was also a sense of dignity and willpower to the mechs of that city he heard of that put him off. Contrastingly, he would not dare go near the Sonic Canyons, the Badlands, or the Underworld, which would surely only produce lowly creatures too poor and ill of behavior for him to pass as a suitable match._

_So he began in Iacon—a city highly respected and of growing wealth—where he was sure he could find a proper balance of his desired traits. In the time of his visit, he made certain to always refuel in public, though he would never in his own home city as he considered it distasteful. However, he was determined to do so for two reasons: to lengthen the time in which he could search and so that he might attract attention from a potential mate with his immaculate finish. This method would prove more efficient for his intentions than remaining in private._

_To his displeasure, his prediction proved false. In fact, all the attention he garnered in this method was unwanted. Lowly mechs with lewd intentions insisted on placing their slimy hands upon him, make passes at him, and call him “pretty mech.” He could deny them all he wanted, tell them not to touch him, and even lash out physically, and it did not discourage them. He was disgusted only more by their disobedience._

~----------~

            Chase falters in continuing the story, having some difficulty with the translation of it to English. This part of the tale contains many accents and idioms that would be difficult to get across the language barrier on their own. The blue ‘Bot’s own struggles with using and understanding non-literal speech can only make things harder.

            The words come slowly to him, but at last he is able to resume. His telling is very smooth for the next long stretch.

~----------~

           _Just when Split Speed was beginning to give up hope in Iacon, a voice split the air like a clear, beauteous bell. “Is that any way to treat a noble?” The lowly mechs around him parted enough for him to see a rounded three-wheeler with simple but well-maintained paintjob and honest face approaching._

_One of the mechs dared to snort at the attractive newcomer. “Noble? This mech ain’t a noble. He’s not decorated all fancy. Why would one of those snooty-mechs come to a hole like this anyway?”_

_But the three-wheeler shook her helm and pointed out the care and detail that had gone into Split Speed’s paint and the minor markings that labeled him as a noble of_ _Tyger Pax_ _. At once, the other mechs’ frames ran cold, and they all departed. The three-wheeler then turned her attention to the noble with a bow. “How might I appease you, sir?”_

_This immediate respect charmed Split Speed, and he introduced himself. Then, he said, “My gloss is ruined because of those ruffians. I could use a good clean and shine.”_

_“Allow me, sir. I have no cloth upon me, but I have many fine ones among my wares, if you would but accompany me to my store. Or, if it pleases you more, I could bring the nicest of them directly to you for your approval or disapproval, sir.” She only even then chanced a glance up, but redirected her gaze to the floor almost immediately._

_Split Speed was delighted by her words. Not only was she respectful, but if she owns a store, there was a possibility he had found his perfect match after all. “Thank you. I believe I will accompany you. May I first ask you your designation?”_

~----------~

            Chase is forced to stop, once again, to contemplate the translation. Names hold a great significance in their planet’s culture, and there is no easy equivalent in any of Earth’s languages for the dual-meaning designation the three-wheeler was given.

~----------~

_“I am called Buck. If you will please come this way, sir.” She led him to her store, which turned out to be very large and various in its wares. Some of it, Split Speed noted, was fit even for the nobility. The polishing cloth Buck presented him with was among these best items._

_He paid her for the polishing cloth, and then said, “I will offer you much more if you would be the one to fix my finish.” She replied that she would have no greater pleasure than to offer this service at no charge._

_It pleased him greatly that she was able to finish her work quickly and efficiently. When she was done, he turned to face her and said, “Buck, it would bring me great joy if you would accept this payment from me although you claim to need none: return to_ _Tyger Pax_ _with me and be my_ _conjunx endura_ _.”_

_Buck was sure her audial sensors were deceiving her. She bowed politely and said, “Sir, I’m certain that you don’t mean what I just heard you say. I’m of no position to call a mech such as you my_ _conjunx_ _.”_

_“I insist,” said Split Speed. “I would have no one else. Have some trustworthy mech watch your store and come with me.”_

_Buck had some reservations, but she knew she could hardly deny a noble. She arranged for a close friend to mind her store until a more permanent replacement could be found, packed a few small personal items and wares in her subspace, and drove off with Split Speed._

_When they arrived amongst the nobles of_ _Tyger Pax_ _, the others admired Buck’s simple-but-elegant paint pattern and flawless finish. Seeing her in root-mode, though, they noted her lack of noble-markings at once._

_Opulence, a rival of Split Speed and jealous of his inheritance, pretended to be scandalized and demanded, “How could you bring such a creature among us?” Secretly, he thought Buck quite beautiful, but he also thought it a shame that her looks were wasted on a lesser mech._

_One of Split Speed’s friends looked at Opulence with contempt. “How sorry that you cannot use your processor! Split Speed has doubtless brought her to be a new servant.”_

_“Not at all,” said Split Speed. “I have brought her to be my_ _conjunx_ _.”_

_A prolonged hush blanketed the crowd. Opulence was the only one to break it for several minutes, laughing louder than he would usually allow himself to. His voice is only magnified by the stunned silence of the other nobles._

_Split Speed’s mentor stepped forward. Buck immediately sensed his importance to her fiancé and bowed politely. The older mech inspected her with a sharp eye from helm to foot._

_His approving nod was all it took to break the quiet. The gathered nobles chatter to each other, wondering just what the mechs involved were thinking. They did not stop talking even as they parted enough for Split Speed, his mentor, and Buck to pass. Now, the only one without a word or sound was Opulence._

_The noble and the store-owner were bound to each other as_ _conjuges endurae_ _in a private ceremony. A wordless wonder passed through Buck’s processor; she could not fathom why—for a loveless, hurried union like their own—Split Speed had chosen such a sacred method to bind them. It seemed so irreverent an option for a mech of his status._

_But even as the consort of a noble, she could not question his actions. Split Speed mistook this as her not even having the questions to begin with, and he took great joy in having his wish for an obedient mate granted to him._

_To prove to the others how excellent a choice he had made, he decided he would teach the three-wheeler etiquette and throw a ball to show her off. When she proved to already have great manners without his teaching, though, it sparked a bitterness in him. The lower classes were savages, he believed. If she already knew anything of nobles’ ways, it could only be a sign of devious intent in his optics. It would not stop him from having his chance to prove his wisdom to those who doubted him, but he determined to keep a closer watch on his_ _conjunx_ _._

_The ball was visibly the most-attended of any he or his mentor had thrown. All of the gossip about his joining with Buck had made everyone all the more eager to catch even a glimpse of the couple, especially the Iaconian store-owner who started it all with her arrival. Even Opulence was in attendance, and he was curious as to why a perceptive mech like Split Speed’s mentor could approve of someone so common for his student._

_The newly-joined couple looked quite attractive together. Their paint complemented one another’s. Neither was greatly adorned, but they each wore a shinier finish than normal. Opulence knew appearances alone could not be why they became_ _conjuges endurae_ _. If that were the case, there were many suitable matches for his rival amongst the nobility. Opulence himself would fit his visual tastes nicely, though he would only even consider joining a competitive oxide shark like Split Speed in his worst nightmares._

_Of all the mechs watching Buck that night, Opulence watched the closest. He did not follow her around the room, but it proved easy enough to find himself in a favorable position to observe her multiple times throughout the night._

_What he found is that Buck was surprisingly charming. Oh, her manners were absolutely perfect, but it went beyond that. There was a flattering quality to the way she addressed another mech. She could also, with ease, slip a sales offer into conversation and make it seem as though the other had suggested it in the first place. It was a familiar subtlety a noble could find pleasant._

_It was a quality that Split Speed noticed as well. In him, it inspired ire and magnified the malevolent spark that already pulsed within him. He found it dangerous, not charming, and he determined that he would have to reduce her back to her true rank to teach her a lesson._

_When his last guest was gone and his mentor excused himself for recharge, he turned on his_ _conjunx_ _and demanded she stop polishing herself. “You attract too much attention. All our neighbors will think you’re vain. Can you not see that we have a reputation to maintain, and you tarnish it with your willful climbing of the ranks?”_

_Buck bit her bottom lip-component. She knew she could not argue with him or remind him that it was his own idea for her to make herself “presentable” to his guests. Instead, she only bowed her helm and said, “If you wish it, sir, I will stop.”_

_As the cycles passed, the other nobles began to notice that the store-owner was losing her lovely sheen. Her manners were as perfect as ever, but they could not fathom how she could be so peaceful when her appearance had been downgraded so much. Had any other mech’s appearances taken such a turn, they might have spoken of that mech’s lack of self-respect or their inability to take care of themself. Yet they remembered the wonderful wares and deals Buck had given them, so their opinion of her only improved. Clearly, her new look was a sign of graceful modesty._

_Split Speed could not stand the way his plan had backfired so greatly. The other nobles were supposed to be revolted by her and remind her of her place! She was to be told that she was lucky a mech like Split Speed had seen something in her and delivered her from her sad station as a clerk._

_Since they would not tell her, he would be sure she would know. He ordered her to stay in her room. She would not sit in court. She would attend no parties or sporting events. She was not to visit anyone in_ _Tyger Pax_ _. The only communication she was allowed was with her worker back in Iacon, and he only allowed that because her business was a nice supplement to his wealth. He would monitor her communicator to ensure she followed his orders._

_Buck’s room was up in a tower. With her locked inside, the only people who could reach her were Split Speed, his mentor, and the one mech he was sure would have no interest in finding her: Opulence._

_Opulence was an Arachnicon, meaning that he had extra limbs and the ability to spin mesh webbing, which would have made climbing very easy for him. However, Split Speed remembered the way his rival had laughed at the idea of him taking a commoner for his_ _conjunx_ _. He believed that the mech was too disgusted with her to try to find her, even in an act of revenge._

_In his growing disgust with his_ _conjunx_ _, he did not count on the Arachnicon becoming more and more fascinated with her. The sudden disappearance of Buck from public life had caused much gossip, and Opulence could not help but let some of it push him into action. One rumor had it that the store-owner was locked away in a tower. He had to see for himself._

_His frame-type allowed him a high degree of stealth and agility. When all were busy attending to their own homes and arrangements, Opulence sneaked to his rival’s building. He crawled around in the shadows until he was certain of which tower was Buck’s. Then, quiet as a glitch mouse, he climbed up to her window and knocked._

_Buck stiffened at the sound. She knew that if Split Speed caught her talking to anyone, it would mean disaster for her. On the other hand, she was becoming quite lonely and distressed in her solitude. She would not let her sanity break under the pressure, but her options both caused her great internal pain._

_The knocking became more insistent. At last, she relented and opened the window._

_The sight of Opulence was surprising, even though she knew in the back of her processor that he was the only one who could reach her window from the outside. Like her_ _conjunx_ _, she could think of no reason he could have for visiting her. “What are you doing here? Do you know what Split Speed would do if he saw you?”_

_“Let Split Speed throw his tantrum,” said the Arachnicon. “I wish to speak with you.”_

_“You assume that_ I _wish to speak with_ you _,” she replied._

_Opulence leaned forward and examined her face with attentive optics. “Is that why you have been hiding yourself away from the rest of town? Because you have lost interest in conversing with us? Do you consider yourself now above our company? I somehow doubt any of that is true.”_

_“It is_ my _business how much or how little of that is true.”_

_“And Split Speed’s business, too, I would suppose. He_ is _your_ _conjunx_ _. Tell me, how is your happy little union?”_

_“I can say nothing negative of him.”_

_He laughed. He could easily catch the minute, but very telling, twitches of her face and frame. Still, her tact and cleverness were as exquisite as ever, and he had to be impressed. Such control exceeded that of her_ _conjunx endura_ _. ‘That would have to make the competitive hydro-weasel she calls a_ _conjunx_ _jealous,’ he thought. ‘Jealous enough to hide her away in a tower?’_

_He would not put such a thing past Split Speed. “I am sure it must be difficult speaking ill of such a wealthy mech, especially to another he dislikes. I would think it would be more difficult still to be introduced to such a fine life as you have been, only to have to retreat from it so shortly after.”_

_“A clerk has little need of luxury, only the job of providing it to others.”_

_Before he could continue prodding, they both heard Split Speed calling from somewhere down below. Opulence wanted to push his way through the window and confront the other noble, but Buck closed it in his face._

_Split Speed caught the three-wheeler by the window and became instantly suspicious. He narrowed his optics and asked, “What are you doing?”_

_“Letting out a pest,” she replied. Behind the closed window, Opulence attempted not to laugh hard enough to be detected. “How may I help you, my darling_ _conjunx_ _?”_

_He heard her words as sarcasm and grew enraged. “How dare you speak to me like that!?”_

_Buck bowed to him and tried to mollify his rage. “Forgive me. I meant only to say that I cherish you and thank you for all you have done for me. How might I now please you, sir? I would not think you would seek me out if you had no need of me.”_

_But his anger was already inflamed, and he lashed out violently at her. “You do not think at all. I am no fool, and I will not allow you to treat me as one. You will respect me and never question my motives on anything.”_

_Opulence heard all this and was horrified. Split Speed’s treatment of his_ _conjunx endura_ _, regardless of her origin, was unbefitting of a noble. His high opinion of Buck only made it all the worse by adding a personal layer to what was already terrible._

_Part of him wanted to leap in immediately and stop it, but part of him was afraid it might only make matters worse for her in the long run. The delicate social intricacies of the nobility meant that acting immediately in the way he wished would only implicate Buck in a scandal, and any accusations he lodged at Split Speed would fall on deaf audial sensors._

_It was with heavy reluctance that Opulence left. He vowed to return with tools or others who might help Buck without accidentally make anything worse. This was something he could not afford to let Split Speed win, all previous conflicts between them be damned._

_In absolute private, he told his mentor and a few close friends about what he had overheard. His mentor decided upon being told that he would talk to Split Speed’s mentor, as the two older mechs did not hold the same resentment for each other that their students did. In the meantime, he made the others swear that word would not leave the room until they had evidence._

_After the meeting of the mentors, it was agreed that Split Speed’s mentor would plant listening devices in Buck’s tower and that he would keep watch on the behavior of the pair he shared a home with. He so disliked the idea that he could have raised a contemptible mech like the version of Split Speed he had heard in Opulence’s story, but if there was something vile going on, he could not allow it to continue under his roof._

_He never saw or heard anything with his own optics and audials. Split Speed was always good at hiding his faults from public view, to the point that even those closest to him would be lucky to pick up the subtle cues. Because the duplicitous mech must still respect his mentor, however, the older mech could not be kept from any part of their castle, and he was able to plant spying devices in and around Buck’s room._

_For many cycles, he found nothing. Buck would receive her energon, contact her worker about her shop’s business, and spend her free time reading. Split Speed would visit his_ _conjunx_ _sparingly and almost solely to check on her business ventures. Loveless unions were common and expected, but the distance between the two mechs was more extreme than usual._

_Just when he was beginning to suspect that Opulence was lying, he heard it. It began with the two_ _conjuges endurae_ _speaking calmly to one another. Their conversation was much longer than he was used to them having, but there was nothing else noteworthy about it. Then, Split Speed accused Buck of sneaking out of the tower, and from there, matters quickly escalated to violence._

_Unlike Opulence, Split Speed’s mentor could react instantly. He ran up to the top of the tower, threw open the door, and commanded, “Split Speed, cease at once!”_

_The noble froze immediately on hearing his mentor’s voice. He attempted to make many excuses for his actions, while Buck neither defended nor blamed him. But the recorded evidence was all that was needed._

_Split Speed was brought to trial for his actions and found guilty. His prediction of no one minding his actions so long as they were directed at someone sparked of low-order proved wrong. Everyone was in agreement that Buck had a true charming, noble spark. Split Speed, however, became detested, and he was stripped of his rank, his noble markings, his home, and all his belongings, and his union with Buck was nullified._

_Buck was accepted into the nobility where it was agreed she truly belonged. She was given the appropriate markings and her finish was restored to a shiny glory. And Opulence, who had been the one to most doubt her in the beginning, became her closest friend._

_The End._

~----------~

            “Mm, I don’t know,” says Dani when the story is finished. “Isn’t the moral _still_ that if you’re being abused, you should just withstand it patiently until someone comes along to save you, instead of fighting back?”

            “That is one interpretation,” concedes Chase, “though I have also heard the interpretation that although power imbalances may make it hard to fight back without worse retaliation, there is always a way out of it. The story was intended to be heard more as a cry against the discriminatory caste system that would see mechs sorted into fields based on their frame type and programming and strict necessity that would ultimately mean the subjugation of entire races of Cybertronians, not as any sort of message about domestic abuse.

            “Of course, either aspect of the story was open to criticism. Many took issue with the same potential interpretation you arrived at. Some on the caste-side of the story took it to mean this single spark was miscategorized within the system, while others felt that the very idea that a spark _could be_ miscategorized was an impediment to the implementation of the system. Some took issue with the fact that Buck was not of even lower class and believed the story would have had more of an impact that way.”

            “If the story is as controversial as you say it is, then how was it allowed to stay in the archives?” asks Graham. “Did everyone disagree about its meaning so fully that it wasn’t considered worth deleting, or…?”

            “It wasn’t,” says Boulder.

            “We were all sparked well after that story was created and deleted. That was the first time any of us other than Chase had heard it,” Heatwave adds. He gives the unofficial-SIC that mildly impressed look he tends to give when Chase has done something slightly rebellious. “I don’t know where _he_ heard it, but if I had to guess, it was from someone he arrested.”

            “Negative. I heard it from a mech who had already been locked up before I joined the Enforcers. Files can be deleted from the archives, but when they are widespread, it is much more difficult to delete them from all of the mechs who have encountered them. Tales such as this one were quite popular with criminals, and few could stop them from spreading even through prisons. The debates they caused amongst the inmates were surprisingly intriguing.”

            “Okay, so it’s my turn now, right?” Kade leans back and rests on his hands. “Yours was nice and all, Chase, and Dani is pretty good at twisting a bad story into something else, but I’ve got a little bit of awesome to share with you all. Here’s one called ‘The Valiant Little Tailor.’”

            “Of course,” mutters Dani.

            Blades looks curiously at his partner. “What does Taylor have to do with this?”

            “No, not Taylor. A tailor, spelled with an ‘I,’ is someone who makes or adjusts clothing.” She gives her brother a flat look and sighs. “Just listen to the story. You’ll get it.”

            Kade takes the book from his sister and begins to read them all a tale of a tailor who uses a combination of bragging and wit to complete several challenges, marry a princess, and become a king. The Cybertronians keep expecting the tailor to get some kind of comeuppance in the end, but when it doesn’t come, it dawns on them. “You like this one because the moral is that having a big ego pays off,” grumbles Heatwave.

            “A big ego _and_ cleverness,” Kade corrects. “C’mon, do you really think I’m _that_ one-dimensional?” When he just gets an unimpressed look from his partner, he says, “Fine, let me tell you another one.” He pointedly ignores his sibling’s distressed reactions and flips through the book.

            He begins reading them “The Peasant’s Wise Daughter.” It seems to follow the common theme of someone of low birth marrying a wealthy or royal person. Like the last one, the message is that thinking is rewarded, but with a much more modest tone. And, instead of being rewarded for bragging or scaring others off, the main character proves her love to the king in a hilarious, clever, and adorable way that has Blades “awww”-ing.

            “See, am I _really_ that bad?” Kade asks.

            “Yes,” Heatwave deadpans, earning a glare.

            “But it _was_ a cute story,” says Boulder. “I’m not sure we have a Cybertronian version.”

            Chase checks his databanks and shakes his helm. “If we did, either I have not heard it or it was far more successfully deleted than the one I told.”

            Everyone is enjoying the sharing of tales so much that it doesn’t seem like a question of if they want to continue. They jump from one story to the next, sometimes laughing, sometimes crying, and sometimes left puzzling over what the people who came up with a tale were thinking. After hearing enough Earth stories, and after hearing “The Juniper Tree” in particular, Blades made this observation: "You humans' stories are so weird. They're all full of people eating things they shouldn't! And don't get me started with that fixation on footwear..."

            General consensus seems to be that the weirdest of the stories told includes “The Six Swans” on the humans’ side and “Dancing SpiderBots” on the Cybertronians’. “Dancing SpiderBots” suffers some in the translation, but the ending is, apparently, just as abstract and confusing in the original.

            “One thing I don’t understand about a lot of Earth’s stories is what the message is supposed to be,” Heatwave says as Graham finishes his next story. “Cybertronian tales always have a message to them—an _intentional_ one—even the weird SpiderBots. A lot of these human ones just seem to be told for the sake of them.”

            “What, you mean you don’t see the deep meaning behind ‘Sweetheart Roland’?” snarks Kade.

            “Yeah, and what about ‘The Hare’s Wife’?” adds Graham. “That one really deserves an attentive ear.” Dani tries not to face-palm too hard at her brother’s awful pun.

            “I thought the point of that one was not to coerce someone into marriage and take them away from their family,” offers Cody.

            “That almost makes sense, but it wasn’t really shown very well if that’s the case,” says the pilot. “It honestly feels like it was thrown together for the whimsy of it more than anything else.”

            “At least it’s a fun kind of pointless, unlike that one with the girl and the matches.” Kade shivers involuntarily.

            “What one with the girl and the matches?” asks a very worried Blades. “Does it involve burning a building down?”

            “No,” Cody answers quickly. “Uh, I think that’s one we can skip right over. It’s not really one I think you’ll like.”

            “What? Why not? Is it scary? Oooh, now I’m just going to be stuck thinking about it!”

            Heatwave sighs in exasperation. “Just tell him. His imagination is going to run away with him if you don’t.”

            The youngest of the Burns siblings looks a little uncomfortable, but he reluctantly agrees to read the story. The tale is mercifully short and full of moments of joy and beauty, but the ending leaves his audience disturbed. Other stories had deaths, but something about this one and the way it was handled deeply unsettles them, maybe that it’s treated as almost the happiest ending anyone could wish for the girl. It seems incredibly wrong, but they’re the ones the narrative treats as being wrong.

            “ _I_ am telling the next one,” Blades insists, “and it will be happy and bright and cheerful.” He clears his throat and begins.

~----------~

_In gleaming Crystal City, there lived a scientist whose inventions were some of the best and most useful in all of Cybertron. She could create upgrades to internal systems or external, non-sentient machines with equal ease. She streamlined file-sharing between mechs in a trine, gestalt, or other bond. She crafted medical drones that could help in many complex surgical tasks. Anything she set her processor to inventing, she could create._

_Though her skill was great, her life was a lonely one. She was kind acquaintances with all mechs she shared a lab with or encountered, but they were not friends. Her mentor had already become one with the Allspark. She had neither_ _conjunx or amica endura_ _nor bondmate to keep her company, and she kept no photovoltaic-cat or cyberdog for a pet._

~----------~

            “Let me guess,” Kade interrupts, “she’s going to build a drone, make a wish she had a family, and the drone is going to be granted life.”

            “What?” Blades furrows his optic ridges at the fireman. “No! That would be weird and near-impossible. She’d have to make a request with the council and guild-masters, and it would be a long, boring process. Why would anyone tell a story about _that?_ ”

            “We have a story called _Pinocchio_ that involves a puppet-maker wishing for a son, so one of his puppets is brought to life by a fairy,” explains Cody.

            “…Human stories are so weird.”

~----------~

_She grew sad, and from her sadness sprang guilt. How could someone as successful as she and living in a city as beautiful and grand as Crystal City be sad? But she was, and it was not a state of being she could just choose to leave, as hard as she tried._

_One day, as she was on her way to work, she heard a lilleth singing from overhead. She immediately looked up, because lilleths are a rare beauty, and she did not want to miss seeing one. To her great surprise, the glassy bird landed right in her hands and laid an egg. Then, it flew away again into the sky._

_The mech carried it to the lab with her as quickly as she could while still being careful. Everyone marveled at the delicate egg. “What are you going to do with it?” asked one co-worker. “Sell it?”_

_“I believe I am going to incubate it,” she said. “We have space here in the lab, and perhaps we can learn something of the lilleth’s growth.”_

_After the first week of having the egg there, the scientists all noticed a strange phenomenon in which the egg would glow red and release a repugnant odor if anyone other than the scientist who brought it tried to handle it, but if she was the one to handle it, it would glow blue and smell very pleasant. They believed it to be a defense mechanism: it could sense the hands it was lain in and could trust._

_Time passed, and just as the scientist was beginning to feel crushed by her loneliness, the egg hatched. Out sprang, not a lilleth, but a very small mech. She started at the sight of him and asked, “How are you possible?”_

_“I came into existence because you needed a companion. Take care of me until I have grown into my alt.-mode, and I will be your friend eternally.”_

_So she brought him home, fueled him from her energon supplies, and gave him a corner of her berth. It was not long until he grew into a small microscope-former. His alt.-mode was very useful in her studies, and they could often talk and laugh as they worked together. As he promised, he was a good friend to her all of his cycles._

_And they lived happily ever after. The End._

~----------~

            “That was very nice, Blades,” Cody says when the story is finished.

            “Kind of short and anticlimactic,” grumbles Kade. Dani elbows him, and he adds, “Uh, but yeah, very nice.”

            “Thank you. Because all the human stories were long and followed a normal plot pattern, right?” says Blades, a tiny bit of sass creeping into his tone.

            “I think Heatwave hasn’t had a turn yet,” Graham cuts in before anyone else can start sniping at each other. He turns to the mech in question and asks, “Do you have a story you’d like to share?”

            That seems to surprise the Rescue Bots’ leader. “Me? Nah, I don’t really think fairytales or falsehood truths or whatever you want to call them are really my thing.”

            “Come on, Heatwave. We’ve heard you tell stories before.” Dani scoots a little closer and gives the mech in question a hard look. “You have a real talent for them.”

            “Those stories were different. They were true, and these fictional ones require a different style of telling,” he protests.

            Kade lets out a noise of disbelief. “I don’t know about you guys, but what _I’m_ hearing is that Heatwave is a big chicken.”

            “Kade,” scolds Cody, “you don’t have to be such a jerk. If Heatwave doesn’t want to tell a story, no one should force him to.”

            “Thanks, Cody, but I think I _will_ have a turn. This one is called ‘Vosian Lanterns.’”

            Immediately, the other Cybertronians tense up. Blades grabs Boulder’s arm almost by instinct. Chase even sputters quietly. “Isn’t that one a little disturbing for this?” Boulder asks.

            “Is it really any more disturbing than that human one with the matches?”

            The other Rescue Bots have to concede that he’s probably right. If they could listen to that one, this one should be fine. The humans in their group, meanwhile, can only worry about just what they’ve gotten themselves into.

~----------~

            _There were two lively friends of youngling build who were known for their great ability to cause mischief wherever they went. The only thing they loved more than pulling pranks together was tussling with each other and any other younglings they could wrap up in their antics._

_However, a minor, silent dispute formed between the two of them over the matter of their alt.-modes because one was a Seeker and the other was a grounder. In the beginning, it did little to deter the two of them from their play. She, the grounder, had quickly decided that he did not match the snooty stereotype of Seekers she had been told and that any egotism he did have was actually part of his charm. He, likewise, felt that any of the supposed grounder roughness she had was part of what made her fun to run around with._

_The divide came primarily in_ where _they chose to play and cause havoc. The Seeker had the rare gift of teleportation and could transport a few others along with him. However, he always teleported himself and the occasional friend to_ her _city for play and never allowed her to enter Vos with him. She would always ask him why, and he would always give her a different answer every time. Over time, she began to grow bitter and suspicious._

_One day, she decided she would take matters into her own hands. When he fired up his teleportation drive to leave, she latched onto him just before the power took him away._

_She had to shutter her optics against the blinding flash of his teleportation. But even when the light dimmed to a more manageable level, she found her grip on her friend tightening instantly. They were hovering high up in the air. The urge to scream just barely died in her throat._

_“What did you do that for?” he demanded. “I told you, you didn’t need to come here.”_

_“I-I just wanted to see where you lived,” she stammered._

_“And now you’ve seen it. Let’s get you back home before you get yourself killed. You don’t belong in a city of flyers.” But he quickly found that his fuel was running too low to teleport again, and he huffed grumpily. “Fine, you can stay at my place, but just until I’ve refueled, got it?”_

_“Got it,” she said, and she clung tightly to him as they flew to his apartment. She nearly gasped in awe at the city below. The buildings were dazzling and beautiful, and flying mechs zoomed above and below them every so often. But the most startling thing to her was the complete lack of visible roads._

_Asking about it only earned a snort from her friend. “Why would we need roads?” he asked as he set her down on the roof of his building. “We’re in a city of flyers; visiting grounders are rare. Why did you think I didn’t let you come here?”_

_“Gee, it couldn’t be the number of reasons you gave me before, could it?”_

_“…Point.”_

_“But you also said that grounder visitors are rare, not that there are_ never _any,” she said. She waited until they were inside his apartment to question him further. “So, do they just have to be carried around like I did, or…?”_

_“Usually, they just comm.,” he told her. “If they really have to be here physically, they space- or ground-bridge in. It’s been that way since the roads stopped being maintained.”_

_She knew she’d caught him then. “So there_ were _roads once.”_

_He cursed at himself quietly before he finally admitted, “Yeah, we have them, but they’re way down low where no one with any intelligence would visit, and they’re poorly lit with only a few lanterns here and there. No one can hardly see the street.”_

_“No one with normal vision, maybe,” she said._

_Her words were understood immediately. She was known for having abnormally strong vision for a Cybertronian. She could spot a turbofox at least a mile away. It was a quality he would normally praise her for, but in this context, it only made him worry. “Oh no,” he said. “You’re not heading down there. You’d get yourself killed!”_

_“Like anything else we do doesn’t come with that risk?” she snarked back. “Come on, Wings, what’s the worst that could happen? You drop me off down there; I poke around for a bit; you bring me back. It’ll be fine.”_

_“I don’t know, Wheels. I’ve heard…stories about creatures that lurk down there and lure mechs to their demise,” he said._

_She laughed off his concern. “Stories are stories. I’m talking about truth. Besides, what could get me when we have your teleportation?”_

_He grumbled and drank his energon. He couldn’t find it in himself to argue with her logic, though he still felt wary of her idea. Darkness was something Seekers could tolerate, but the ground was distasteful to them, and shadowy ground drew especial distrust from them. Even factoring in for those details, he still found himself very uneasy about these specific dark streets._

_Nonetheless, as soon as he was fueled, he took her down to the streets she longed to roam. Instantly, she felt a chill pass over her frame, but she dismissed it as just her friend’s worry getting to her. There was nothing to be disturbed by down below._

_The area was dark, even for her powerful optics. The soft glow of the lanterns scattered about was too weak to illuminate the entire area and cast an eerie look on what little it lit. She transformed into car mode so that she could use her headlights to make passage easier. Something about the gloom seemed to eat her light, however, and it made her shiver a little._

_Up ahead, she saw a flash of light and felt instantly drawn towards it. It took her a moment to realize that it looked just like the flash of her friend’s teleportation. She reasoned that he must be trying to lead her somewhere specific. Though she huffed in feigned irritation, she followed him because he was her friend and only transportation back to her home city._

_But the faster she drove, the further away he seemed to get, and the more determined she became to follow him. The path grew ever the more perilous, taking sharper turns and steeper hills. Still, she followed the light as though entranced, faster and further and deeper. She growled with her engine and chased, not slowing even as the road came to a sudden end and dropped off to nowhere. She sped right off the track and was flung into the air._

_She didn’t come to her senses until her sides scraped painfully against the sides of a hole in the wall opposite the dead end. Awareness jolted through her systems, and she could feel her lower half dangling over a seemingly bottomless pit. She couldn’t drive forward, and she couldn’t risk transforming into root-mode lest she fail to latch on to something in time. She hurt all over, and she was stuck._

_She tried to comm. her friend, but all she got back was static. The signal was disrupted this far from the surface. He was the only one who could help her, and he was nowhere in sight. This is where she would go offline, she was certain._

_Meanwhile, he was looking around for her in dread. He would not dare enter the shadows below, but he could not shake the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong with her. He dawdled, torn between action and inaction. After a long time had passed, his concern for his friend outweighed his fear, and he took flight after her._

_When he flew far along her path, he began seeing the flash, too, but he refused to follow it. It pulled on his mind, and still he resisted. He flew by instinct, scanning the area every so often in search of his friend’s signal._

_The light grew brighter and shook as though enraged with him, yet he pressed on. The light scorched his underside and singed his wings. He winced and nearly lost his altitude. But he kept going._

_After flying for what felt like days but could not possibly have been that long, he at last found his friend in the wall. He tried to pull her out gently, but she cried in distress. Panicked, he tried to look for a new solution. He flew downwards and hovered below her. “Transform, and I’ll catch you!” he called up to her._

_She hesitated. The whole experience had frightened her greatly, and the risk nearly paralyzed her. Eventually, she did as he said and transformed into root-mode. Her frame shrieked and popped against the tight space, but she finally returned to her bipedal form after much pain and noise. As soon as she was transformed, she began to fall._

_The Seeker caught her, but nearly dropped her. He caught her hands just as the great light began to advance on them again. His optics widened at the sight, and he activated his teleportation drive as quickly as possible._

_They avoided capture by the light, but they remain the only known survivors of the Vosian roads. His scars never faded. He could try to replace the plating, but the new plating would always mysteriously burn at his touch. As for the grounder, she remained forever changed internally, and jumped at the slightest sound until the end of her days, which came very soon._

~----------~

            “So if there’s always a message to Cybertronian tales,” Kade asks when his partner finishes, “what’s the point of this one?”

            “Keep off Vosian roads,” he answers simply. “Even if there’s nothing supernatural down there, the roads are dark and poorly maintained, and some were never even finished being built. It’s very easy to get lost or drive off the edge there, and rescue equipment is completely useless.”

            “The way Blades reacted, I was expecting something a little scarier,” says Dani.

            “The Cybertronian version uses much more frightening imagery and wording,” the helicopter-former replies defensively. “This version’s toned down and missing some context.”

            “So, who wants to go next?” Cody asks.

            “If you all don’t mind, I’d like a turn,” calls an authoritative voice from behind them.

            Chase is the first to greet him. “Chief Burns, we would be honored for you to join us, sir. What selection do you have to share with us?”

            “I think I’d like to tell the tale of one big, happy—if a little unorthodox—family that comes together to learn and laugh together,” he starts.


End file.
